27. Noah - August
TWENTY-SEVEN
Noah - August
PHOTOGRAPH - ED SHEERAN
The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as I watched Gracie pull a chair over to the counter, her eyes wide with excitement.
Dorian grabbed a mixing bowl from one of the lower cabinets.
“Alright, G. You ready to show Noah how we do pancakes in the James household?” Dorian asked, ruffling her hair.
Gracie beamed, her cheeks still pink from the morning chill outside. “I’m ready, Daddy! Noah, do you know how to make pancakes?”
I chuckled, tying an apron around my waist. “I think I can manage, but you might need to teach me your secret tricks.”
She hopped off her chair, grabbing a whisk with the seriousness of a chef. “Okay! First, we need our ingredients. Daddy, you are the only tall one here. Can you reach everything?”
Dorian reached into the pantry, pulling out a few containers and setting them on the counter.
“Flour, eggs, milk, and a little magic,” he said, glancing at me with a wink.
Walker whined from where he was instructed to stay outside of the barrier of the kitchen. I grabbed a treat from my bag, and he retreated to his bed with a small sigh.
Gracie was already busy cracking eggs into the bowl, a bit of shell falling in. I stepped closer, leaning over her shoulder.
“Oops, looks like we have a little extra crunch in there. Let’s scoop it out.”
Gracie giggled as I fished out the shell, her small hand brushing against mine. “I’m not the best egg-cracker yet, but I’m getting better.”
“You’re doing great,” I reassured her. “Besides, pancakes with a bit of a crunch might be a new invention.”
Dorian chuckled from across the counter. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of innovation.”
As Gracie continued to mix, flour puffed into the air, coating the counter and splattering a bit onto her face. She gasped and giggled, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of white powder.
“Oops!” she exclaimed, her giggles contagious. I couldn’t resist leaning over and tapping her on the nose with a bit of flour.
“Now you really look like a chef,” I said.
Gracie let out a loud laugh, but before I could react, Gracie grabbed a handful of batter and tossed it at me.
“Now you do too!” A playful gasp escaped me as the flour hit my apron.
“Oh, it’s on now!”
Before I knew it, Dorian joined in, flicking a bit of powder in my direction.
It was almost surreal, like a scene unfolding on a movie screen. So simple, yet so real. I let my fears and doubts fade into the background, allowing myself to savor the time with two people I had come to care for more than I ever expected.
I watched Gracie, who was laughing so hard she held her side, flour in her hair, on her clothes, everywhere.
I shook my head with a grin. “I thought we were making pancakes, not a mess.”
“We can do both,” Dorian said, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around Gracie’s waist, lifting her up into the air. “But maybe we should focus on breakfast before we end up covered in it.”
Gracie squealed in delight as Dorian spun her around and set her back down in front of the bowl.
“Okay, okay! No more food fights. Let’s finish so we can eat. I’m hungry.” Dorian said.
The three of us got back to work, stirring the batter and pouring it onto the griddle.
As the first pancake started to bubble, Gracie leaned over toward me. “Can you help me flip it?”
“Of course,” I said, picking up the spatula. I handed it to Gracie and helped guide her hand as she flipped the pancake over, revealing the perfectly golden side.
“You did it!”
Gracie’s face lit up with pride. “We’re the best pancake team ever.”
“Agreed,” I said, smiling at her as the smell of cooking batter filled the air.
“Um, excuse me. What about me?” Dorian said.
Gracie giggled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun making breakfast.”
I glanced at Dorian, who was looking at his daughter with all the warmth in the world. There was no doubt this man, who seemed closed off to others, would burn the world down for his little girl.
And that fact had my insides tingling.
After a few more pancakes, we all sat at the table, a stack of golden goodness in front of us. Gracie, still grinning, doused hers with syrup and started cutting them into tiny, uneven pieces.
“Noah, what’s your favorite kind of pancake?” she asked between bites.
“Hmm,” I said, thinking. “I’m a fan of blueberry pancakes. How about you?”
“I like chocolate chip pancakes the best. Daddy makes them sometimes when it’s a special day.”
“Chocolate chip pancakes sound amazing. Maybe next time, we can make those together.”
Gracie’s eyes lit up at the idea. “Can we? Please, Daddy?”
Dorian gave me a look, his lips twitching into a smile. “Sounds like we’ve got another pancake date on our hands.”
“Yay!” Gracie cheered.
“And maybe Noah can come to more breakfasts with us?” Warmth spread through me at her words. I glanced at Dorian, unsure how to respond, but his gaze softened as he nodded.
“Maybe she can,” he said, low and thoughtful. The moment was simple, but it meant more than I could put into words. As we finished breakfast, I realized how much I’d come to care about this little family—and how that terrified me more than anything.
I listened intently as Gracie nailed the passage she’d been working so hard to master over the last few weeks. She finished and looked up at me with a smile on her face, clearly revealing how proud she was of herself.
And that made my heart want to burst.
This sweet, creative girl worked so incredibly hard to get to where she’s at now.
“You did it, Gracie. That was flawless!”
“I did it, I did it! Wait… what does flawless mean?”
I chuckled. “It means it was perfect,” I explained.
“I was perfect!” She beamed.
“Daddy!” she called into the other room where Dorian sat on the couch, laptop open and glasses on. “I did it! I was flawless!”
He looked up and smiled. “I knew you could do it, G,” he said, lifting his glasses up to his forehead.
In that moment, it was more than a lesson. Watching her eyes light up as she mastered something she had been working so hard toward, I realized how much I cared about her progress.
“You okay, Noah?” Gracie asked.
“Yeah.” I smiled at her. “But I do think we are done for tonight. We’ll pick up next week,” I said, tapping her little nose.
She let out a giggle that released all the dopamine in my body.
Gracie had been a big part of my adjustment to Woodstone Falls, whether she knew it or not. Tutoring her turned out to be one of the most rewarding things I’d done all summer.
What started as a way to keep myself busy—something to focus on besides the tangled mess of John’s investigation—became the highlight of my days. Our tutoring sessions over the last couple of months became more than just work.
They became moments where we shared stories, laughed about silly things, and slowly built something that felt almost like a friendship. As much as you could build a friendship with a six-year-old.
It wasn’t just about school for her—or for me. It was about being present, about having someone who listened and cared and wasn’t wrapped up in the chaos surrounding them.
It started with little things.
She’d ask me to stay a few minutes longer after a session to watch her draw, showing me these incredible sketches of animals.
Then it became more, telling me about her friends, or the latest Ellie Miles drama.
Which apparently was that Ellie had broken up with her longtime boyfriend and was about to go on tour—which Gracie was very excited to attend.
I was too, honestly.
Woodstone Falls had a way of slowing things down, giving me space to breathe—something I hadn’t known I needed until I got here. Being able to take the time to settle in over the summer made me realize just how much I needed this move.
This town was so full of life. The community offered something that was unmatched, making it hard to miss my time in the city. Back in Seattle, life had been a blur, fast and relentless, with my relationship with John always teetering on the edge of disaster, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it.
But after spending time with someone who made me feel like I belonged here, I realized maybe I did belong here.
Not only for Gracie, but for the entire town. I loved feeling like I belonged after years in the city. I contemplated leaving many times, but for a while, I stayed for Dotty. And then for John. And then… because I didn’t want to run.
But coming to Woodstone wasn’t running. It was freeing.
Even if the noise of John’s investigation echoed in my brain. The chaos ever swirling in the background. Knowing John was still out there, continuing to harm innocents, loomed like a storm I couldn’t quite escape. There were days where it felt like the world might collapse under everything I didn’t know.
But somehow, this town, with its quiet streets and friendly faces, pulled me out of it. I was enjoying my new routine—tutoring Gracie, taking long walks through town, catching up with Dotty in the evenings, preparing for the school year. I found purpose in the peace.
And as much as the investigation into John’s life continued to swirl around me, for now, I had something solid to hold on to—this new life in a small town that had become a safe haven.
Not to mention Dorian.
Who was also a big perk of Woodstone.
Especially as he sat there, with his glasses and disheveled hair, looking unintentionally sexy as hell.
Something told me he could read my thoughts from across the room as I stood, meeting his heated gaze.
We hadn’t spoken much over the past week since… well, since that night.
The kiss. The little tailgate escapade. The way he took me back to his house afterward. All of that.
We were both so busy, with him working long hours at the clinic and me getting ready for the school year. Last we spoke, we agreed it would be casual, but the way he made me feel, the way he looked at me, felt anything but.
But he said he didn’t get attached. And I wasn’t ready for anything serious.
“Gracie,” Dorian said, his dark brown eyes not leaving mine. “Go get ready for bed. I’ll be there in a few.”
On cue, she let out a yawn. “Okay, Daddy.” She turned toward the hallway and into the bathroom.
His steps were commanding and purposeful toward me. Once he reached me, he grabbed my elbow, pulling me over to the other side of the living room, out of direct view from the hallway where Gracie had retreated. Once we were around the corner, I chuckled.
“Dorian, what are you doin—” And his lips were on mine.
My body relaxed, letting go of everything that had been building since his lips last met mine. He pressed me against the doorframe, trapping me between his body and the wall.
He pulled back to whisper into my mouth. “This fucking hair.”
Kiss.
“These fucking lips.”
Kiss.
“And this tight ass,” he said, lifting me up so the doorframe dug into my back. I relished the slight sting as his mouth devoured mine. He slid his tongue against mine in teasing strokes that left me whimpering, needing more. Needing him.
“I’ve waited all damn week for this. For you,” he said.
“Me too,” I admitted.
He tasted like mint and everything I knew I should stay away from but everything I wanted. His hand moved to wrap around my waist, his fingers imprinting into my skin, and all I could think was more .
I needed more.
I bucked my hips slightly, waiting for his response.
“Peach,” he moaned. “You’re killing me.”
“Shush,” I scolded him, not wanting his lips to leave mine ever again.
My hand slid around his neck, fingers threading through the wavy strands of his dark hair. His kiss was urgent, as if he were heading off to war, rather than to his daughter brushing her teeth in the other room. The thought should’ve sobered me, but it didn’t. All I could focus on was wanting more.
We were a tangled mess of desire and need when Gracie’s voice rung out in the distance. Dorian groaned and put me down on my feet just before Gracie came barreling around the corner. I was still trying to get back my bearings when she appeared.
Dorian’s glasses fell from where they were resting on his head to the floor, and Gracie looked back and forth between the two of us.
“Daddy…” Gracie’s brow furrowed as she planted one hand on her hip. “Were you kissing Miss Reid?”
I nearly choked on a laugh, not just at the seriousness in her tone but also because she’d gone full formal and called me Miss Reid, as if stepping in to protect me while scolding him.
Dorian, wiping his mouth with impeccable timing, shook his head. “I was not.”
“Uh-huh…” She narrowed her eyes at him before turning to me. “Noah, was my daddy kissing you?”
I exchanged a quick glance with Dorian, still struggling to recover. “Nope, we were just… uh…” I fumbled for something believable. “Playing a game to see who could stand closest to the door without touching it. Your dad lost.” I pointed my thumb in his direction.
“Oh, whatever, I definitely won.”
“You did not!”
Gracie crossed her arms, scrutinizing me. “Are you sure that is what you were doing?”
“Absolutely. He’s awful at it. Big head and all. Gets in the way.”
After a beat, she shrugged and smiled, somehow buying my ridiculous excuse.
“Okay. Let’s go, Daddy. I’m tired.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dorian gave me a look of gratitude as Gracie marched down the hallway, leaving him no choice but to follow.
As he passed me, he leaned in close, sending a wave of heat flooding through me. His voice was low as his breath brushed against my skin. “Meet me on the porch in a few?”
I swallowed, nodding slightly, biting my lip.
Dorian’s gaze never left mine as he pulled back, his eyes dark and heated, holding my attention until the very last possible moment when he finally looked away.
I took a breath and walked out, the crisp evening air greeting me. The soft sound of crickets filled the air as I sat on the porch of his home. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and for the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.
And then my mom called.